Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Like the rest of Lyndie’s world, there was nothing simple in their kiss.
But for someone who hadn’t so much as kissed another woman in a year, Lyndie decided Griffin seemed to remember just fine what to do and how to do it, so much so that her bones seemed to melt away.
His fingers tightened against her scalp, holding her still for his plunging kisses.
As if she wanted to be anywhere but right here pressed between a hard wood door and an even harder, fiercely aroused Griffin. She arched even closer and was rewarded with the hoarse sound of his groan.
Freeing his mouth to suck in some air, he buried his face in her hair. “God. I don’t even know if I can do this.” His arms banded tightly around her, so tightly she could feel him quiver with passion, with fear, with so many things, but she was feeling just as shaky herself.
“It’s like getting on a bike,” she promised, and bit his throat gently before soothing it with a lick of her tongue.
That ripped another groan from deep in his throat, one that mingled with a reluctant laugh. “Lyndie…I’m serious.”
Since she could feel the proof of his wanting pressing into her, she kissed his throat again. “You seem to be quite serious, and also in working order.”
“Mechanically, yeah, I can hardly see straight with all the blood loss for parts south. But—”
“No buts.” Cupping his face, she smiled at him over her own ache and yearning. “That’s all we need here, Griffin, working mechanical parts.”
He stared into her eyes, his own filled with so much she couldn’t take it.
“This is about the here and now, and needing a release,” she said gently. “That’s all.”
“Lyndie—”
“Kiss me again.” She didn’t want to hear why this was a bad idea. There were a million reasons why, but what would be a really bad idea would be stopping. Stopping would kill her. Her body hummed, pulsed, high on the adrenaline and yearning. “Kiss me…”
And he did, oh, God, how he did. His tongue, moist and hot and seductively determined, slid into her mouth again, and she met him with the soft whimper of her own acquiescence. By the time they broke apart for air this time, she was panting for more. “This isn’t ending with just a kiss, damn it.”
“No. Christ. I can’t believe how much I want you.
” His voice sounded low, thrillingly rough, making her breath catch at the heat in his shimmering baby blues.
“I have to touch you.” One big palm stroked up her hip to cup a breast. His thumb rasped over her nipple, already so tight she couldn’t contain her little needy gasp.
“Skin to skin.” She tugged off her shirt, leaving her in a white sports bra.
He ran his finger over the plain cotton, then the zipper between her breasts, and smiled. “Practical and pragmatic to the end, aren’t you?”
His finger slipped beneath the material and her legs buckled.
The small talk, the light, sexy banter, the sheer heat in his eyes were going to kill her.
“Always.” All she wanted was the end product now, the few seconds of complete oblivion, and he wasn’t moving fast enough to suit her.
To help, she yanked his shirt out of his jeans, then shoved it up his chest, revealing a wedge of his flat, rippled belly that made her mouth water.
“Off,” she muttered, and hauled the shirt over his head. “Hurry.”
To ensure he did, she reached for the buttons on his Levi’s and popped them open one at a time. He caught on quick and started working on her jeans as well, dragging hot, wet, openmouthed kisses along her jaw as he unzipped her sports bra.
“Uh-huh.” She backed him to the bed, shoving Lucifer off, who leapt to the floor and settled on her discarded top.
Lyndie pushed Griffin to the mattress, laughing breathlessly when she caught him by surprise.
Still, he managed to tug her down with him, gliding his hands up the backs of her thighs, cupping her butt, squeezing as she fell over his chest.
She held him down and bit his chin.
He let out a groan and shot her an endearingly crooked grin. “Be kind to me.”
“Oh, trust me, I plan to be very, very kind.” She got off the bed long enough to grab a condom out of her bag, where she always carried them.
Then she climbed back up his long, rugged body and sucked on his earlobe, loving how that seemed to make him melt.
Still, he managed to tug off her loosened bra and toss it across the room…
Okay, now she was in her comfort zone, and it was a good place to be.
Sex. Hot, fast, good. Pushing down her jeans, she scissored her legs, kicking the denim off to the floor, letting out a helpless hum of pleasure when Griffin’s hands dragged her up higher so that he could draw a breast into his mouth.
“Oh, my God.” She held herself up on arms that shook as he licked, sucked, and nibbled at a nipple until she didn’t know if she was coming or going.
Settling her legs around his hips, she arched against a most impressive erection and knew exactly where she wanted it to be.
Inside her. Yesterday. “Now, Griffin. Now.”
“Wait. I want to—” He broke off on a gruff moan when she wrapped a fist around him and stroked.
She couldn’t help it. Seeing him sprawled out beneath her, hard and tanned and tough, feeling his hot, sleek skin over rigid muscles, his long fingers biting into her hips, hearing the raw sound she coaxed from his throat, all combined to have a blinding, intense need surge through her body.
“Slow down,” he begged, slipping a hand between their bodies, cupping her wet heat until she cried out his name, holding on to him for dear life. She didn’t want to slow down, not then, and not when he rasped his thumb over her core, taking her to a place where slowing down was utterly impossible.
She opened the condom, helped him put it on. Then she guided him home. She’d barely sunk down on his long, hard length when he growled, rolling her, tucking her beneath him so that he towered over her, his eyes glittering with desire, intent.
“So you don’t want to take our time.” His voice was hoarse and tight. “You have to promise we’ll linger on the next round then.”
Next round? There wasn’t going to be a next round—
But one single powerful stroke put him inside her to the hilt, and they gasped in tandem at the delicious heat as all thoughts scattered from her brain.
“Next time…” He grounded this out, as if he was holding on by a thread. “We take this slow and easy. Deal?”
“No—”
In the middle of a beautifully hard thrust, he went still. She tried to arch up, but his big body held her still. “Deal?” he asked again, softly.
“Fine! Deal! Now do it, damn it.”
“Oh, yeah, I will.” And he began to move, bending low to whisper naughty nothings in her ear, this wild, earthy, sexy man who’d thought he’d forgotten how to do this.
She was lost then, lost in the sound of her name on his lips, lost in the feel of him thrusting into her with his powerful body, lost in the heartbreaking way he held her gaze as they both fell over the edge.
As usual, Lyndie woke up sprawled facedown, sideways, across the bed, naked and starving. And alone.
Definitely a smart move on Griffin’s part to leave, she thought. Waking in each other’s arms would have been… Well, she’d never know. And in any case, he might have held her to that lingering Round Two she’d promised him.
Good thing he’d decided against it. Round Two was always overrated.
But waking in his arms?
Even she had to admit, that might just have been perfect. She closed her eyes.
So perfect.
Lifting her head, she glanced at the clock and found Lucifer’s questioning eyes instead.
“Mew,” he said, and moving daintily across the wildly strewn covers, he came close to lightly bat her on the nose.
So she wasn’t alone after all.
She pushed the obnoxious little kitten away, but he came right back. Settled on her butt. She pushed him away again and rolled over.
The tenacious kitten came back and sat on her chest this time. He was quite a weight for a little guy, so it was odd that suddenly she felt as if she’d had a weight lifted off. She stared into his feline eyes, that odd little feeling in her chest increasing, blooming, spreading.
“What is it about you?” she whispered, and when he didn’t—couldn’t—answer, she sighed. She had a bad feeling it was affection.
Good thing then that it was nearly dawn, and she had a fire to get to. Never one to sit around wishful thinking, she pushed Lucifer aside and reached for her clothes.
When they arrived at the fire, Griffin got out of the Jeep and jumped right into the fray. He supervised refilling of the tanks from the river, the laying out of the hoses, the line digging and clearing, everything, and he did it so automatically it left his brain free for other things.
Things such as last night, and the feel of Lyndie under his hands, his mouth, his body.
But obsessing over that meant he didn’t have the time to feel sick over fighting this fire, didn’t have to relive the horrific memories floating so freely in his head, nothing. He simply worked.
But again, like yesterday, it shamed him that he could have gotten over the Idaho fire at all, that he could move on and be okay, when twelve weren’t.
So he stood there and brought back the screams, the heat, the vicious wind, the misguided directions and incorrect weather report from base nearly thirty miles away—and only when his heart had filled with pain, did he nod grimly.
Now he could face this fire again.
“Where are we at?”
Griffin turned his head and looked into Lyndie’s green eyes. Her easy smile faded at whatever she saw in his. “Hey.” She put her hand on him. “You okay?”
“You ever notice how you only touch me when you think I’m falling apart?”
“You’re too hardheaded to fall apart,” she said, but dropped her hand from his arm. “And what do you call last night? You weren’t falling apart then and I touched you plenty.”